The Lover From The Sea
by Diem Kieu
Summary: Much to her dismay, Princess Merida is faced with an impending betrothal - and ultimately, an arranged marriage. Little does she know that she has caught the eye (and the heart) of a mysterious secret lover... Frodo X Merida. Updates monthly. Reviews are greatly appreciated!
1. Chapter I: A Voice Above The Waves

**A/N: Dedicated to the wonderful Sev Baggins, who makes my day with every new chapter of her Frodomances and her sweet author's notes! :) I hope you enjoy!**

Chapter I: A Voice Above The Waves

The sun was just about to set when Merida rode home from her latest adventure, the wind still blowing in her fiery red hair. She passed through the gates of Castle DunBroch and led her trusty horse Angus to the stable.

"I'm starving! You hungry too, Angus?"

The muscular black and white steed whipped his tail in her face as a response.

"Oats it is, then."

The young princess left the task to the stable men as she made her way inside through the kitchen, where the servants were busy preparing various dishes for the family dinner, taking an apple and a plate full of cakes as she passed by. She could hear her father King Fergus retelling the story of how he lost his leg to the demon bear Mor'du as she pushed open the door with her free arm.

"Out of nowhere, the biggest bear you've ever seen, his hide littered with the weapons of fallen warriors, his face scarred with one dead eye,"

Her three little brothers were there. One was lip syncing the story and copying every gesture his father made. Another planted his forehead to the tabletop. The third was almost asleep.

"I drew my sword, and -"

"WHOOSH!"

Merida's sudden take on the story woke up his brothers as they suddenly gasped and began to listen intently. One even fell off his chair and sent a pewter mug tumbling down with him, only to get up and peep over the edge of the table.

"One swipe, and his sword shattered, then CHOMP! Da's leg was clean off- Down the monster's throat it went!"

"Aw, that's my favorite part," Fergus remarked as Merida finished the tale.

"Mor'du has never been seen since," she continued, walking backwards and widening her eyes for dramatic effect. She crept past her father, behind the chair he sat in as she raised her arms to resemble a bear's claws. "... And is roaming the wild waiting his chance of revenge! RAWR! RAWRAWRAWRAWR!"

"Let him return," Fergus remarked. "I'll finish what I gobbled in the first place!"

His wife's soft, ladylike voice suddenly cut the lively and adventurous mood.

"Merida, a princess does not place her weapons on the table."

"Mum, it's just my bow!"

"A princess should not have weapons, in my opinion."

"Leave her be," her father interjected, "princess or not, learning to fight is essential."

"Mum, you'll never guess what I did today."

"Hm?"

"I climbed the Crone's Tooth and drank from the Fire Falls."

The eyes of all three of her little brothers widened with shock.

"Fire Falls?" her father inquired, his impression with her quite apparent despite his feigned air of royal doubt. "They say only the ancient kings were brave enough to drink the fire."

Merida made a funny face and giggled merrily in response. Fergus laughed along with her. Her mother, however, seemed quite aloof as she read various letters from the other end of the grand wooden table.

"What did you do, dear?"

Merida sighed, exasperated.

"Nothing, Mum."

Elinor suddenly glared at the pile of cakes that Merida had grabbed previously.

"Hungry, aren't we?"

"Mum -!"

"You'll get dreadful collywobbles."

The queen disgustedly shifted her gaze to her husband.

"Oh, Fergus! Will you look at your daughter's plate?"

He shifted his eyes to the plate as he was about to take a bite from a large turkey leg from the mountain of meat piled on his own.

"So what?"

Suddenly two lean, black dogs ran up to and pounced excitedly onto him, covering his face with kisses.

The queen certainly wasn't amused.

"Don't let them lick - ugh,"

Her gaze shifted to the little princes as she noticed them playing with their meals.

"Boys, don't just - don't just play with your haggis!" she said as the one seated in the middle dangled his right in the face of the one to his left, which was contorted into an expression of exaggerated disgust as he leaned away from it.

"How do you know you don't like it if you don't try it? It's just a wee sheep's stomach - it's delicious! Mmm!"

A portly serving lady came to the dining hall carrying a small tray, which held nothing save for three sealed letters. She promptly delivered them to the queen, as if she were serving her a fine meal that she had cooked herself.

"Thank you, Moddy," said Elinor, taking the envelopes from the tray. Meanwhile, Merida noticed the boys playing with their food.

"Psst!"

The boys immediately shifted their attention to their older sister as she gestured to the plate full of cakes, of which she hadn't taken a single bite.  
She quickly slipped them under the table, and the three little boys smirked as they sunk from their chairs. Meanwhile, Elinor opened the three wax-sealed letters and skimmed over them one by one.

"Ah. From the lords MacIntosh, MacGuffin, and Dingwall- their responses no doubt."

Fergus was busy laughing and trying to keep the hounds out of his pile of meat as the boys gorged themselves on Merida's cakes. One of them looked over at their father's feet under the table and looked over at his two brothers, who nodded excitedly in agreement over the idea that just popped into his head.

"Aye - stay out of my food, you greedy mongrels!"

The dogs were gnawing on his tough wooden leg as his wife diligently read the letters before her, seemingly ignoring everything else going on around her.

"Fergus-"

Merida immediately turned in her direction, wide-eyed. Soon after, King Fergus froze in his seat and did the same.

"They've all accepted." the queen continued, almost in a whisper.

Merida darted a look at her father. When she realized that he was thinking the same thing she was, she turned again to her mother at the other end of the table.

"Who's accepted what, mother?"

Elinor turned to the triplets, who were now as round as apples from the cakes that they'd stuffed into their shirts.

"Boys - you are excused."

The boys dashed out of their seats immediately and ran out of the dining hall. One of them tripped over, causing all of the cakes in his shirt to spill over and onto the floor. He immediately got up and followed his brothers out.

Both hounds followed the boys.

Merida uncertainly scanned the table.

"What... Did I do now?"

"Your father has something to discuss with you,"  
Elinor responded as she glanced over to her husband, who spit out his drink at her remark.  
He sat wide eyed as she tried to cue him into bringing the news to his daughter.

"Fergus," she said, quickly glancing at Merida.

Fergus awkwardly cleared his throat and looked at his daughter.

"Um, Merida..."

The words escaped him as his wife rolled her eyes at his incompetence. She then took it upon herself to bring Merida the news.

"The lords are presenting their sons as suitors for your betrothal."

"What?!"

"The clans have accepted!"

"Da-?!"

"What- I - you - she - Elinor?!"

"Honestly Merida," the queen remarked. "I don't know why you're reacting this way."

"UGH!"

Merida laid her head on the table, hopeless and beyond exasperation. Her mother continued with the news regardless.

"This year, each clan will present a suitor to compete in the games for your hand."

"I suppose a princess just does what she's told!"

"A princess does not raise her voice! Merida, this is what you've been preparing for your whole life."

"No, it's what you've been preparing me for my whole life! I won't go through with it - you can't make me!"

She immediately rose from her chair and stormed out of the room.

"Merida!"

Elinor turned to Fergus, who got up to go after her only to discover that his wooden leg had been tied to that of the table.

"Merida- BOYS!"

...

Merida stormed into her room and slammed the door behind her. She immediately went for her sword and began hacking at the strong wooden bedposts to unleash her frustrations.

"Ack! Agh! Ugh!"

Hack.

 _Suitors?_

Hack.

 _Marriage?!_

Hack!

 _Does a princess have any say on what goes on in her life?!_

HACK.

 _Why is it that everything is decided for me?!_

HACK. HACK.

 _It's_ _ **my**_ _life!_ _ **MINE! MY OWN!**_

HACK! HACK! HACK!

CRACK!

Merida jumped at the sudden sound as she noticed a huge fault creeping up the bedpost to her right at the foot of her bed.

She stared at it as her heart thumped in her chest. The crack slithered higher. She still held her sword in a clammy, trembling grip.

It was then that she heard the last sound she could ever expect through the glass window to her left - a voice singing a wordless song.

It floated from outside and through the glass, filling her room and surrounding her like a rolling mist. It was gentle, ethereal, even reminiscent of a siren's call - and yet was distinctly male. The eeriness of it all in such an intimate space should have made her skin crawl and her hair stand on end - but it didn't do that at all. If anything, it soothed her and ebbed her wrath.

It enveloped her like a soft, close embrace. The bedpost ceased its cracking. The marks from her sword slashes miraculously began to fade. Merida's face softened as she stared in wonder at the bedposts, and then off into space as she got lost in the beautiful voice. She could feel it vibrate against her body, as though it was quietly singing in her ear as it washed away the tension in her muscles. Her breathing became slower, deeper. The grip on her sword loosened by degrees. She lost herself even further and collapsed onto her bed, lying on her back as the voice filled her ears and continued to soothe her body. Eventually she closed her eyes and sighed deeply. The sword fell completely out of her hand and clattered to the ground. 


	2. Chapter II: The Merman

Chapter II: The Merman

Frodo surfaced above the pristine Highland waves and climbed onto a rock to watch the sunset. Droplets of sea water glistened in the dying sunlight on his pale bare skin, giving it a subtle iridescence.

The sunsets were what reminded him of home - of where he was supposed to be. It seemed like merely days before when Frodo boarded the ship in the Grey Havens headed for the Undying Lands. He had said his farewells to all he held dear - Aragorn, Arwen, Legolas, Gimli, Meriadoc Brandybuck, Peregrin Took - and to his truest friend, Samwise Gamgee.

** _The cool zephyr of the sea caressed Frodo's face as the white ship set sail for the Undying Lands, as if to console him._

 _His calling had come from the coast of the setting sun, yet that calling had required him to forsake all that he held dear. He could see and feel the light of Galadriel's phial fading slowly as the ship drifted further away from the shore of the Grey Havens. The wind blew his deep brown curls into tangles as he went through his memories one by one – the faces of his late mother and father, his time in the Shire with his Uncle Bilbo, the trials of his quest with the Ring, the wedding of Sam and Rosie… Suddenly tears, like pearls slipping from his watery blue eyes, landed upon the pale and beautifully carved elven wood of the ship. The next thing Frodo knew, he felt a mighty yet benign hand upon his shoulder and heard the familiar voice of an elderly but powerful man._

 _"Do not let your heart be troubled. We are headed from what we know to a far better place."_

 _It was Gandalf, the wizard who had guided him on his quest, as he had done for Bilbo before him. He was once a grey wizard, but his robes had turned white after his encounter with the Balrog. Now, work in Middle Earth was done for both of them, as well as for everyone else who rode this ship – or so it seemed. The Lady Galadriel was among them, along with Elrond, the lord of Imladris and the father of Queen Arwen, and the aging Bilbo Baggins. The wind toyed with Galadriel's long golden tresses like a long lost lover as they flowed beneath her ivory traveling cloak. Her fine, regal white gown made her resemble a princess bride ready to be walked down the aisle and surrender to the arms of some fair prince once and for all. Bilbo's hair, once bright and curly like that of any hobbit, was now wiry and hoary from his extensive years with the Ring. His face had more lines than the bark of Fangorn himself. His attire of sage green, mellow gold, and taupe, although fine indeed, seemed only to reinforce his ever-withering youth._

 _Youth among the hobbits on the ship seemed to reside solely in Frodo. The wind continued to touch his smooth, fair-skinned face. He almost could have been mistaken for a little princeling, especially with the simple yet beautiful vest and coat that happened to match his eyes. Yet speaking to him would prove otherwise, for his maturity and experience with the Ring would have been unfurled. Hence there lay the reason why he stepped on this ship and did not stay in the Shire._

 _Gandalf's voice suddenly awakened him from his thoughts._

 _"Frodo, are you all right?"_

 _"Yes, I'm fine."_

 _"You were reflecting on your life in Middle Earth, weren't you?"_

 _"I-I was, actually."_

 _Frodo, although he knew the wizard quite well, was rather surprised that he correctly assumed his thoughts. He didn't do a very good job hiding it._

 _"Don't worry. It's actually quite an apt action for an occasion such as this," reassured the wizard._

 _"I suppose. I can feel the light of Galadriel's phial fading."_

 _The lady chimed in at the mentioning of her gift to the Ring-Bearer._

 _"Fear not. You shall soon witness a star far brighter than Éarendil could ever be."_

 _She then gazed off into the sky, smiling at its beauty. Frodo had never seen her happier – perhaps this was only because she had been so focused on the quest that was at hand, although it was Elrond's first time seeing her so joyous as well. Maybe it was because she was finally released from her duties concerning the mortal world. Knowing her, one could never know for sure. However, it was no wonder that she was admiring the skies above. Its shades of gold and rose-gold, along with its oranges, crimsons, purples, and blues, outshone the finest silks crafted by the hands of Men (although perhaps not those of the Elves, since they were wise and skilled beyond any creature) as the sun sank into the waters ahead like a neighboring ship surrendering to its demise._

 _According to the lore Frodo had been told, this was why the Undying Lands were to the West of Middle Earth – as the sun sets in the sky of Arda on the western horizon, so does the soul set in the sky of life in a paradise to the west of a mortal world… A heavy sigh passed Elrond's lips as he noticed Frodo place his hand on his left shoulder._

 _"It's the Morgul wound again, isn't it?"_

 _Frodo nodded, unwilling to speak of his grim scar._

 _"Is that the true reason you're here with us?"_

 _"Yes," said the hobbit, his voice quiet and reluctant._

 _That night, when he lay awake on a bed as soft as clouds and far too comfortable to be believed as part of the sleeping quarters on the upper deck of the ship, he had a clear and exquisite view of the night sky's indigo velvet, adorned with stars glimmering like diamonds – no, not diamonds, but like the Arkenstone that Bilbo spoke of in the tales of his adventures – tens of thousands of Arkenstones lighting up the heavens that floated upon the fair lands the Elves called home, with a bright mithril orb as their moon. The waves rocked him gently as a mother would cradle her child, slowly lulling him to sleep._

 _…._

 _The wretched, icy piercing pain in Frodo's shoulder awakened him from his slumbers. Upon opening his eyes, the sky was as dark as the nightmares that had haunted his sleep back in the Shire. The glittering stars that he had admired hours before had disappeared behind black clouds, like a Nazgûl's veil that had blocked out all light and hope. The mithril moon was nowhere to be seen._

 _A crash of thunder boomed suddenly, causing Frodo's startled eyes to widen in fear as a flash of lightning cracked in the sky. Elvish crewmen rushed to prepare to tread the imminent storm. Rain began to patter upon the ship's wood as Frodo scurried to grab his cloak and wrapped it closely about his person. He could see Gandalf hurrying to aid them with an angered look upon his face. Elrond ran close behind to lend an extra pair of hands. Galadriel, as well as Bilbo, stood in a state similar to Frodo's, wrought with fear and worry. Galadriel's white cloak was about her, her hair blowing frantically in the howling winds. The thunder rolled louder as the rain fell harder upon the ship. The waves grew mightier and more violent. The once serene ship was now a chaotic, soaking wet riot of motion and thunder and lightning. Frodo noticed a nearby rope holding up one of the sails unraveling before his eyes. For a minute he froze, watching it come undone, until it was reduced down to its last fiber – and then, he grasped it desperately, tugging it with all the might that his little body could muster so the sail would not fall to the deck and steer the ship off course. His hands were quickly burned and chafed from its coarseness. The brutal winds blew the hard, icy rain against his back._

 _He loosened his grip just a little bit. A cruel gust knocked him off his bare feet and toppled him off the boat and into the freezing seas below. A crewman shouted to Elrond in Elvish:_

 _"HELP! THE RINGBEARER HAS FALLEN OVERBOARD! RINGBEARER OVERBOARD!"_

 _The forceful waves had already driven his small frame far from the sip by the time the crewman's cries reached the elf's ears. The cold waters made the new wounds on Frodo's palms sting with searing pain, in addition to the returning agony in his left shoulder. He thrashed desperately at the sea, trying to swim back to the rope that had been tossed for him. Alas, his efforts were to no avail; the currents were too strong for a hobbit to tread alone. His weary body was soon lost from sight among the tempest like the drops of rain that fell upon the turbulent ocean._

 _Elrond and Gandalf both looked on from the ship's edge in disbelief._

 _"FRODO!"_

 _Only vile gales and crashing waves answered the wizard's call._

 _"FRODO!"_

 _The tempest's replies were no kinder to Elrond than they were to Gandalf. The elderly Bilbo Baggins rushed to the deck sobbing._

 _"No, no…! Not my nephew! My boy! Frodo, my boy…!"_

 _Galadriel came forth, but remained a few feet behind the rest as she buried her face in her fair hands and quietly wept._

 _{}_

 _Frodo continued to fight the vicious, tumultuous waves long after he lost sight of the ship. They tossed him back and forth mercilessly, as if in sport. Time was blurred; minutes seemed like ages as he battled them. Suddenly, a giant crest charged towards him. His cerulean eyes widened with shock as he registered its massiveness and might, which easily picked him up and threw him into the depths of the sea below._

 _The white stone that hung from around the hobbit's neck floated out of his shirt and glowed faintly. He gazed above as his body sank deeper into the water and noticed that the storm had finally ceased. Mustering his remaining strength, Frodo began to swim back up to the surface. His journey back up quickly came to a halt when he felt something grasping his ankle. Looking down, he noticed that a vine of sea kelp was now anchoring him down as a ball and chain would. More of these vines began to emerge and reach for him. Air bubbles flew from his mouth and nostrils as he struggled to free himself. The rising plants, like a multitude of water snakes, slithered about his body and continued to pull him under. Frodo swiftly tore off his coat and threw it into the indigo depths. The great tangle of kelp paid no heed to his efforts, however. Still determined to be liberated, he fumbled with the buttons of his vest and managed to take that off as well. The serpents continued to torment him, and so his fingers frantically undid those of his shirt and let it sink with the rest of his discarded garments. Alas, the kelp refused to release him as it coiled its many tentacles about his body – especially from the waist down – and successfully dragged him into its bed. In a final attempt to break free, Frodo unfastened the fly of his trousers and desperately pulled them off. The deep green tangle briefly loosened its grip. Frodo barely made his first move to escape when the vines seized him more forcefully than before, binding him to the sea floor. He was now naked and at the mercy of Ulmo._

 _The victorious liana continued to wrap itself around Frodo until it covered his lower half completely and was climbing up his torso. He tried one last time to tear away the kelp about him – only to realize that it had attached to his skin! One of the vines had grasped his left hand – the one that had been maimed when Gollum bit his finger off. The kelp wrapped itself around his hand just as it had done to his legs, which he could no longer move individually. Frodo looked over at his concealed feet and noticed that the foliage about him had taken the shape of a fishtail. After a few more air bubbles passed from his mouth, he looked up once more at the water's surface until he finally lost consciousness._

 _{}_

 _Frodo awoke gasping for air, relieved that he could breathe again. Even though his vision was now pristinely clear, it took him a while to register that he was still underwater and entangled in the sea kelp. However, he was now able adjust himself to a seated upright position. As he did so and noticed that he was considerably taller, the kelp finally released its grasp on his hand. Both now had all five fingers intact and were perfectly unblemished. The plant greens bound about his lower half melted away, revealing an elongated fin covered in an array of silvery scales, which gradually faded into gold as they got closer to the place where flesh and fin converged. His eyes widened as he tested his new limb. Finally free, he eagerly escaped the kelp forest, taking note of his improved swimming abilities._

 _He stopped when he spotted a sunken mithril mirror on the sea bed floor. Looking into its reflection, he discovered that his appearance from the neck up had changed very little, save for perhaps a minor adjustment in size to suit his proportions. However, it seemed as if someone had taken his torso and arms and had seamlessly replaced them with those that would be more suited for a man or an elf – and yet, ironically, the scar on his shoulder from his encounter with the Witch King was still there._

 _Frodo gazed up yet again to the surface of the water, watching the renewed sunlight dance upon it. The golden rays highlighted the muscles rippling subtly beneath his alabaster skin as he swam up and finally broke the water's façade. The sun was now just above the horizon and still rising in the sky._

 _The scene before his eyes was fundamentally different from what he had seen before succumbing to the waves. The golden rays of the sun were peeking behind a streak of royal blue that lined the horizon. A hazy orange halo surrounded the rays as they reached upwards towards an impossibly clear blue sky streaked with peach and dark blue clouds. His eyes widened in wonder as he noticed the glassy stillness of the water he was in, its only disturbance coming from the ripples radiating from his body as it reflected the skies above. His eyes instinctively darted towards a shoreline dotted with a mixture of moss covered boulders and white sand, and without a second thought, he swam towards it. **_

Frodo was in the midst of a silent prayer for his friends when he heard the galloping of hooves in the distance. Startled, he instantly snapped his head and his gaze in its direction. In the distance, he could make out a figure with brilliant red hair astride a large, burly black and white steed. A large stone castle loomed ahead as the figure passed through the walls.

For some strange reason, he kept staring on into its direction long after the figure had vanished into the castle. He eventually shook his head and slipped back into the water.


	3. Chapter III: Cresting to A Maiden Fair

Chapter III: Cresting to A Maiden Fair

For the next several days, Frodo swam up to the spot where he'd seen the figure with the red hair, only to be met with disappointment. Even he couldn't really explain to himself why he'd suddenly become so fascinated with what should've been an ordinary sight. All that he knew was that something about that figure drew him to it. Perhaps it was the sheer enigma of it all, and as a result, his curiosity got the best of him.

Yet, despite his frequent disappointments, he was quite persistent. Fortunately for him, his efforts were not in vain. One morning, he saw the figure astride the horse again. As soon as he spotted it, he swam up as close as he good to get a better view. As soon as he did so, he almost immediately realized that the figure was female.

She stopped and dismounted her horse, making her way forward to sit down on the grass on the cliff above. She carried with her what looked like an archer's bow and a small knife. Frodo wished he could see her face so that he could watch as she concentrated on carving a design into the bow. Despite not being able to do so, he watched her intently until she rose, seemingly satisfied with her work. He watched her as she proudly returned to her horse and rode off into the woods.

Perhaps it was the way she seemed to enjoy adventure that fascinated him so. Or maybe it was the confidence that she radiated despite the great distance. However, once he looked away, he noticed a great waterfall in the distance. From what he could see, it seemed to be quite beautiful, and yet so far - much like the red headed girl he'd suddenly become so preoccupied with.

Without giving it a second thought, he dove off the rock he sat on and began to swim towards it.

...

Once he reached the waterfall, Frodo marveled at the sheer height of the mighty boulder that bore the heft of the crystal clear cascade. The sky was blushing with the first hints of a sunset when he heard hooves behind him. He turned around and gasped before quickly sinking beneath the surface and swimming behind the watery curtain.

He sat on a ledge at the very edge of the waterfall, just so that he could see her while still provided with the concealment of the flowing water.

He watched as she scanned the very same sight, as though she were sizing it up. He continued to observe her intently as she dismounted the horse and walked up to a towering, natural spire near the falls. He sucked a breath as he realized that she was about to climb it, his eyes glued as she took each step to the top.

She was almost halfway there when her foot slipped on to the rocks. Frodo's heart skipped two beats. However, she seemed to handle herself quite well, and soon enough she was back to climbing until she reached the very top, cupped her hands, and reached out to the crystal cascade before her. The merman's eyes widened in wonder as he watched her shout with joy at her accomplishment.

She climbed down with the same grace and skill that she had demonstrated the way up. There was a noticeable bounce in her step as she got back on her horse and rode off.

Frodo looked on and sighed. The girl was obviously beautiful and was beaming with a confidence that could only come with a love for life. Yet, even so, she seemed to never notice him.

He continued to look on as she rode to the great castle in the distance. Frodo wondered what it would be like to live there - if the girl he'd become so fascinated indeed did live there.

Only when she was well out of sight did he slip back into the water and follow the current back to the sea.

...

Frodo could still see the castle when he returned to the sea and climbed up onto another rock. The very last rays of the sun were dying on the water as the brink of night grew closer. The moon rose in the indigo sky, giving the water droplets on his skin a subtle iridescence - and even more so to the gold and silver of his tail. He stared up at the great looming structure on the stone hill in the distance, surrounded by a thick grey fog.

Suddenly, the girl he'd seen drinking from the waterfall entered his mind once more. Something deep down convinced him that she lived there. That sudden conviction quickly intermingled with his desire for her to notice him... which turned into an idea that was questionable at best.

If his instincts were wrong, he'd be making a fool of himself. If they were right... he had no idea how she would respond. The minutes he spent sitting on that rock debating with himself seemed like hours.

His gaze shifted back to the castle as he finally made the decision to take the risk. The first note that escaped his lips was a soft high tenor heavily laced with timidity, yet it still bore a clear, slender accent. He became far more involved in his improvised song as thoughts of the girl with the red hair flooded his mind. His voice became stronger and even clearer as he continued to sing, his gaze fixated on the great castle before him. In fact, at this point, his voice was so strong that it pierced the air around him, although he did not realize it. The final note echoed around him as he finally ended his song and sighed quietly. As far as he knew, nothing had changed. He slipped off the rock and back into the water, taking one last look before going on his way.

However, what he did not know was that the redheaded maiden did indeed live there - and that he had made her swoon.


	4. Chapter IV: The Taking of the Princess

Chapter IV: The Taking of the Princess

The next day without her mother's lesson plans couldn't come soon enough for Merida. The lairds were coming in just a few days to win her hand in marriage. All of her time after today would undoubtedly be spent on preparing for the big day.

Merida rose at the crack of dawn and quickly grabbed her trusty blue green dress.

She splashed her face with water and fumbled for her brush, rushing through her morning routine to the point where she could hear her hair snap from the force, leaving the bristles riddled with untamable knots and tangles. She wiped her face with the washcloth as if it were a rag and grabbed her bow, sword, and quiver full of arrows.

After putting on her stockings and shoes, Merida dashed down the castle stairs and immediately ran to the stables to fetch Angus. She wasn't going to miss one moment of what she was sure was her last day of freedom.

"Ready, Angus?" she asked as she mounted him . The horse neighed loudly in response. With that, Merida rode off at breakneck speed through the gates and into the forest ahead.

Within a few moments, Merida was furiously firing arrows at the wooden targets that she had hung from the trees herself. When there were no more targets to be seen, she rode even deeper into the forest, drinking in as much scenery as she could. She was sure that this would be the last time she would be able to do so without an entire court in waiting flanking her- or a husband.

After taking a deep breath and briefly reflecting on this fact, Merida rode on, determined to cover as much of her old stomping ground as humanly possible- and then some. She peered out at the magnificent scenery from the hilltop where she had carved her bow, shot a few salmon from the nearby river, and even revisited the Firefalls.

The next thing she knew, the sun was hanging low in the sky. She stared at stark, sparkling water of the Firefalls and sighed.

"Guess it's time to go home, Angus."

Angus' nostrils flared as he exhaled, as though in defeated agreement.

Merida gently tugged on the reins to signal that they were heading home. The sound of his hooves slowly clomping on the ground almost lulled her to sleep when she suddenly heard the rustling of the trees behind her. She immediately snapped out of her semi awake trance and looked about her, only to find... nothing.

She sighed and shook her head, tugging on Angus' reins in order to remind him to keep going. He had only trotted a few feet when, out of nowhere, several men leapt from the bushes and spooked Angus out of his wits. His neighs and squeals pierced the air as he reared almost to a vertical position, sending Merida tumbling to the ground. Several of the men immediately grabbed her arms and dragged her to her feet. She struggled violently as they tried to subdue her - and even managed to elbow one man in the eye. She kicked another in the shin, sending him down on one knee cursing. Alas, two other even stronger thugs had taken their places. They wrung and twisted her arms behind her back and quickly bound her hands. Another man grabbed a rough cloth - presumably to gag her - but one of the men who had just bound her hands had an even quicker idea. He raised his fist and aimed it directly at her head.

A shocking blow greeted Merida, followed by a burst of pain before everything went black.

...

An uneasy rocking motion and the sound of creaking wood woke Merida from her blacked out stupor. The rough cloth tied to her face like a horse's bridle was a rude reminder of her current situation.

Her hair obscured her vision, and she couldn't use her hands to brush it out of her way due to their scratchy restraints. She tried to move her legs. Nothing. She tried to look down at them through the red veil of her hair and could make them out tied to the legs of some chair, which had been tipped over to one side on the floor.

The rocking and creaking, along with the unmistakable musty scent of the sea, was a dead giveaway that she was on some sort of ship.

The door wailed open as two men stormed in. One of them vaguely resembled one of her supposed suitors - Young MacIntosh. She groaned beneath her gag cloth as he yanked her chair and pulled her to an upright position.

"You idiot! We need her alive and unspoiled!"

"But she is, sir!"

"Look at her! She's bound and gagged with rough cloth and rope - and left on the ground like some village harlot!"

"We got her, don't we? That's all that matters, right?"

"Did you recently fall and break your skull?! SHE. IS. THE. PRINCESS! That means that if there's one scratch on her, you'll wish you'd never been born! Now go fetch some better bonds for her!"

"But, sir -"

"I SAID GO!"

He slammed the door behind the other man before approaching Merida. He obviously had Young MacIntosh's temper, as well as a similar build and coloring. He even wore the red and green MacIntosh tartan. Yet his features were far more boyish - and his nose wasn't quite as big.

She heard him grumbling under his breath.

"Wee Dingwall - that wuss - chickened out- leaving me to do his dirty work -! Firstborn rubbish -! Why does my brother...?"

Merida gasped under her gag as the other man returned with some softer looking materials.

The younger MacIntosh, as Merida inferred him to be, snatched them from his hand and brusquely sent him off before approaching her.

"I'm sorry about all this," he said, almost in a whisper.

He untied the gag only to replace it with the cloth he'd just obtained. She had to admit that it was softer than the previous one.

"A princess deserves so much better," he said as he began to do the same with the ropes tying her hands.

Merida's eyes suddenly widened as an idea popped into her head. This wasn't the time to ponder.

In a split second, she turned around with the chair still attached to her and knocked the younger MacIntosh to the ground.

She noisily sat back down only to kick up a dagger and cut her own bonds. Once she was free, she ripped off the gag and whipped around to her stunned captor.

"I do indeed!"

She kept the dagger in her hand as she ran off to the deck, only to be greeted by the heaviest curtain of rain she'd ever seen. Fortunately, this meant that there weren't quite as many men to fight off. She dodged a punch from the one on her left and kicked another in the back of his knees. She used the dagger to bring a large wind-taut sail crashing down on the man who had tried to punch her, along with a third pursuer. She wasted no time on getting to the edge of the ship. She took a look down at the tumultuous waves before her and took a deep breath. She whipped her head around and found three angry, crazed thugs who looked like they were ready to rip her throat out. Without a second thought, she leapt off into the raging black waters below. The waves dragged her away without hesitation, and before she knew it, that wretched ship was nowhere to be seen.

The sky was almost as black as the waters surrounding her. The only source of light was the occasional bright streak of lightning that followed the roars of thunder. She splashed around, trying to fight the waves - only to come a sudden, sinking realization.

She had never learned how to swim.


	5. Chapter V: Rescue At Sea

Chapter V: Rescue At Sea

Frodo sat upon the boulders strewn at the entrance of the cave, watching the raging storm in awe. Something out there struck his heart with horror - and it wasn't the massive crashing waves, the rain that fell like hail, the booming thunder, or the lightning.

It was the nearby ship that was being tossed around, as though in sport. He'd watched one of its main sails fall to the deck like a tapestry that had been poorly nailed to a wall. Suddenly, he noticed a figure teetering over its edge. His eyes immediately focused in and widened in shock as it jumped into the tumultuous waters below.

He immediately dove off the rock he was perched on and slipped beneath the water's surface, quickly swimming towards the fallen figure. As he got closer, he spotted flashes of fiery red hair as the lightning continued to strike and light up the water and blackened sky. His heart leapt in his bare chest as he rapidly swam to the drowning figure. Could it be _**her**_?

The next lightning bolt confirmed his sinking suspicions as it illuminated the victim's face. He was quick to gather her unconscious form into his arms before taking one last look at the wrecked ship before him. It was now barely within his sight - and what brief glimpses he did get were obscured by monstrous waves within seconds. He swam and ferried the girl he'd seen drink from the Fire Falls days before back to the cave, where he hoped that they would both be safe from the remainder of Mother Nature's wrath.

...

Frodo watched the sky go from black to indigo, and then fade to a pale grey before even considering leaving the cave. The maiden in his arms hadn't even stirred since he pulled her out of the water. He tightened his hold on her, pressing her to his bosom in hopes of keeping her warm. He looked down at her and nervously bit his lower lip as he brushed a few fiery red strands of hair from her face. He hesitantly rested his fingers against her neck. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt a faint, gentle pulse beneath his fingertips.

He looked out once more and saw a few rays of sunlight break through the silver veil that covered the heavens. The storm had passed. He gathered her up and slipped out of the cave, into the now calm waters. He swam her over to the shore and gently laid her down on the still cool, damp sand.

She still hadn't awakened. For a moment, he simply gazed at her, wondering what color her eyes were, how her smile would look like up close...

He tucked away some stray strands of her hair again. This time, he indulged himself to let his hand rest on her face, his thumb lightly stroking her cheek. Her red hair was a bright, stark contrast to the muted shade of the sand. Only a few moments had passed before he began to softly sing to her, his voice as timid as it was when he was in front of the castle. In a few more moments, his voice grew stronger, and the song began to resemble one of the many he'd heard from the elves of Middle Earth. He watched her eyelids flutter open before his wordless song was cut off by the sound of a woman calling from a not so long distance:

"Merida!"

Frodo gasped, immediately shifting his gaze to the direction of the sudden call. He could see a woman on a horse riding straight for the shore, followed by a large, burly man who was also astride his. His hair and beard were the same fiery shade of red as the maiden he had just saved. The woman bore a slight figure with fair skin, not unlike that of the girl lying before him. Her dark brown braid fell easily to her knees and was streaked by a single, thin silver stripe. He took one last look at the girl who had only awakened minutes before and swiftly slipped back into the waves, watching the man and the woman rush to her and get her back on her feet from a safe distance under the shade of a nearby boulder.

...

Merida heard the hauntingly familiar sound of a beautiful male voice. A shape darkened by the bright sun and the blurriness of awakening greeted her once she opened her eyes. Upon her vision slightly sharpening, she could see that the shape was the figure of a man looking down upon her. His hair hung in dark ringlets around his chiseled face. As far as she could tell, he wore no clothes, though she could only see him from the waist up at the most.

She could feel his fingers lightly brushing her face before suddenly hearing the sound of neighing horses. The man quickly looked up in the direction of the neighs before before he glanced over his shoulder and vanished.

The next thing she knew, her parents were rushing over to her side. Her mother was quick to lift her up to a seated position. The skirts of both of their dresses were covered in sand.

Merida coughed out whatever was left in her from her near drowning before her parents helped her to her feet.

"Merida! Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, mother."

"Where've you been? We thought we lost you!" her father exclaimed.

"I was taken by these men - I don't know why they wanted me, but one of them was muttering something about the lords -"

"What?! When I find who's responsible for this, I'll snap their necks like dry twigs!"

"Fergus!"

"What?"

"We need to keep the peace between the clans. Merida's about to be betrothed to one of the lords' sons."

Merida looked off at the water, not wanting to hear about her upcoming betrothal. For a moment, she thought she could see the man with the ringlets peeking from behind a boulder past the shoreline.

"Merida...?"

"Yes, mother?"

"What are you looking at?" she asked softly.

"Nothing," Merida responded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's nothing. I was just watching the waves."

...

Frodo watched the three of them walk off the shore and towards the great castle in the distance. He didn't move from his hiding place until he knew that they couldn't see him. When that moment came, he swam to another rock and perched himself on top of it in order to get a better view, where he watched the family go until they were no longer in sight.

 _Merida... So that's her name..._


	6. Chapter VI: The Council of the Queen

**A/N: Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! I know this isn't the most romantic chapter to be posting today, but I hope you all enjoy anyway! ;)**

Chapter VI: The Council of The Queen

Merida was sitting at the grand table in the throne room again along with her parents. The situation she was in right now was glumly reminiscent of the dinner just short of a week before... minus the good food, the enthusiastic storytelling, and the company of her cheery but mischievous three little brothers. Their company was replaced by the that of the lairds, along with their wives.

It seemed that the MacIntoshes didn't want to be here any more than she did. Lord MacIntosh, a man as skinny as a twig with dark brown hair that stood out from his head like a lion's mane, leaned back in his chair as he crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. Lady Maclntosh sat in the next chair and was examining her fingernails. She was a curvaceous woman with bright red lips and long chestnut hair adorned with gold cuffs. Around her neck was a gold necklace bearing the MacIntosh crest, and her wrists and fingers were amply adorned. Both were clad in the red tartan of their clan - he wore his usual kilt, while she sported a roughly woven cream colored gown with a leather corset and a plaid overskirt.

Across from them sat the MacGuffins. Lord MacGuffin's face was barely visible beneath his thick dark blonde mustache, beard, and eyebrows. Even so, it looked like he would've rather been somewhere else. Lady MacGuffin, a stout blonde who wore her hair in two long braids, sat by him with her hands neatly folded on her lap and her lips curled in a polite smile. Like Lady MacIntosh, she also wore her family crest around her neck - except hers was a golden medallion on a thick ribbon of leather. They too wore the tartan of their clan - an olive green accented with rust.

Between them sat the Dingwalls. Lord Dingwall, a short and wide man with a face full of character and white hair that stuck straight up from his head, leaned back in his seat with his hands folded on the table. His wife, Lady Dingwall, sat upright with her head held high, as if doing so made her look more important. The poor woman's nose stuck out from her face like a bird's beak, and she was so petite that the chair she sat in seemed to swallow her whole. Her fair hair was pulled tightly into a bun. A pale green tartan shawl draped over her sloped shoulders, fastened by a brooch engraved with the Dingwall crest.

Sick of the stifling silence, Queen Elinor rose from her throne and cleared her throat.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice. I am proud to say that our daughter Merida is now safe and sound. However, due to the unfortunate occurrences of late, we shall have to postpone the gathering for her betrothal."

"And I assume the purpose of this meeting is to set the new date?" Lady Dingwall abruptly inquired.

Elinor let out a heavy sigh.

"Yes."

"How is she faring?" asked Lady Dingwall.

Merida looked her directly in the eye.

"I am faring quite well, thank you very much."

Her tone was quite formal, though it was noticeably laced with frustration.

Lady Dingwall cocked an eyebrow at her before continuing.

"Well enough to be betrothed within a fortnight?"

Suddenly, Lady MacGuffin's eyes widened in surprise.

"A fortnight? Did you not hear what the queen has said? Give her more time, for pity's sake!"

Her words were hard to understand through her thick accent, though her husband nodded in agreement.

"I think I've heard our queen's words quite clearly," Lady Dingwall responded, shifting her gaze to Elinor. "And I shall gladly honor whatever she says."

Lady MacIntosh looked about as bored and frustrated as Merida was. The latter did her best to suppress a giggle as the former rolled her eyes in the same way she would have at the moment. That moment of comic relief, however, was short lived. A moment later, Merida's attention turned to her mother.

"Enough," she commanded in a calm, stern tone. "This council has barely started, and I'll not have my subjects squabbling over petty arguments before we have even begun the process of making a decision. Do you understand?"

Lady MacGuffin gave a quiet, polite nod.

"As you wish, my lady," replied Lady Dingwall. Her tone sounded quite measured- a little too measured for Merida's liking.

Lord Dingwall suddenly chimed in, seemingly amused by his surroundings.

"You'll have to forgive my wife, my ladies. You see, she's looked forward to this for quite some time, haven't you lass?"

He winked at his wife, although she clearly wasn't amused.

"Now, about the date of the betrothal," Queen Elinor continued. "The games for my daughter's hand were to be held two days from now. However, in light of recent events, I would like to come to a consensus with all of you on a new date."

Elinor eyed Lady Dingwall as she spoke again.

"Lady Dingwall had suggested that we hold the games within a fortnight. What say you?"

"Two fortnights, at least!" responded Lady MacGuffin.

"Settle it out amongst yourselves. I'll be happy with whatever the queen desires," commented Lady MacIntosh.

Lord MacIntosh grinned ear to ear at his wife's comment. The other lords were more cautious in showing their approval, though it was still quite apparent that they agreed. The fact that she happened to be the most attractive among the lords' wives only heightened their attention to her.

Queen Elinor spent a good while moderating the heated debate between Lady MacGuffin and Lady Dingwall over when Merida's betrothal should be. Meanwhile, it took every ounce of the princess' strength not to pound the table with her fists and scream at both of them- especially Lady Dingwall.

 _Who are **they** to decide my fate?! Why am I sitting here watching them plan out my life?_

Her hands were shaking even though they were curled in tight fists. Her teeth were clenched behind lips that were sealed shut. She was on the brink of losing her temper when the voice she now knew all too well echoed in the back of her mind - along with the shadowy image of the handsome man she saw when she had awakened. She could almost feel that ghostly caress on her face again.

Her fists loosened. Her hands stopped shaking. She didn't realize how hard she'd clenched her teeth until she realized they ached after unclenching them. She blinked before setting herself back into the present.

The women were still arguing over her betrothal date. Merida just rolled her eyes. Her mother would have taken quick notice and rebuked her in some shape or form had she not been moderating the argument between Lady Dingwall and Lady MacGuffin.

Queen Elinor had about just enough of the bickering herself. It was just going in circles.

"Have you not been hearing me?! She needs time!" Lady MacGuffin exclaimed.

"Even a deaf man would have heard you by now," Lady Dingwall replied with venom in her voice. "You think she's a delicate little flower who can't handle marriage? My son deserves better than that - and I KNOW she's better than that." Her gaze suddenly shifted to Merida.

"Aren't you?"

Merida slowly rose from her chair.

"Yes. But if you don't mind, I would like to have a say on my own betrothal."

Her gaze shifted to Lady MacGuffin.

"As far as the date goes, I would say that two fortnights from now is reasonable enough," she stated. Her tone was masked, as though she were hiding an entirely different feeling altogether- which she was.

*At least MacGuffin's giving me more time.*

Everyone in the room could see the scowl on Lady Dingwall's face. Queen Elinor glanced at her daughter and took a deep breath before speaking.

"The princess has spoken. However, I would like to propose a compromise before we leave today."

She paused to ensure she had the attention of all in the room.

"I propose that the betrothal should be held in three weeks. What say you?"

Merida let out a heavy sigh and sunk back into her seat.

The ladies glanced at each other before answering.

Lady Dingwall was the first to speak up.

"I suppose I can settle for that."

Lady MacGuffin nodded.

"Aye."

Lady MacIntosh finally looked up and made eye contact with the queen.

"As you wish, My lady."

The lords breathed a sigh of relief and grinned at each other. Their wives may have done all of the talking here, but all three of them knew that their fun came on the actual day - especially with the games began.

Lord MacIntosh finally spoke.

"It seems you've come to a fine decision, my ladies."

"I agree," replied the queen. "Is there anything else you wish to address before we conclude this council?"

"I believe that'll be all," stated Lady Dingwall.

Elinor clasped her hands together.

"All right," she commented. "Thank you again for coming, and I wish you all good tidings until our next meeting."

The sound of shuffling filled the air as the lords and ladies rose from their seats and left the room. The doors boomed shut behind them. As if on cue, Merida stormed out and rushed straight to her room. Elinor stared in her direction and called out her name.

"Merida!"

It was no use though. She'd had enough of lords and ladies and the talk of her planned out betrothal for one day.

Merida slammed the door behind her and immediately collapsed on to her bed. The ghostly image of the man by the shore, along with his voice, flooded her semi-conscious dreams until she drifted off to sleep.


	7. Chapter VII: Turmoil

Chapter VII: Turmoil

A hard, loud knocking awoke Merida. The door to her room opened on its own accord. Her mother Elinor stepped into the room. Merida quickly rose and sat on the edge of her bed, readying herself for a verbal assault.

The queen walked in with the speed and fluidity of a ghost, her face hard as stone.

"Merida, I need to speak with you."

 _Translation: I'm about to lecture you about how unladylike you are and need to act more like a princess._

Elinor paused before continuing.

"It was extremely improper of you to interfere with the council today."

"Then why was I even there at all?"

"Because this was supposed to be a firsthand experience of diplomacy! You'll be dealing with hundreds of these councils when you're queen."

"But this marriage is going to affect me for the rest of my life! Am I just a pawn to be sacrificed for the sake of satiating the clans?!"

"MERIDA!"

Elinor took a moment to regain her composure.

"You were born into great privilege, power, and prestige. None of that comes free. With it comes great responsibility. Sacrifice is inevitable."

"The first time I met your father was at the games held for my betrothal," she continued. "My mother prepared me just as I am preparing you. I was as frightened as you are right now. But deep down I knew I had a duty."

She paused again.

"He grew into the man he is today after we were betrothed- and I grew to love him."

Merida's glare was so fiery at that moment that the fact that she didn't burn holes into her mother's gown was a miracle.

"What if I don't want to follow that path?"

Elinor briefly glared back before heading towards the chess set on a nearby table.

"Once, there was an ancient kingdom..."

Merida rolled her eyes and fell back onto her bed.

"Ugh, mum... Ancient kingdoms...?!"

"Its name is long forgotten," the queen continued, willfully ignoring her daughter's complaints as she carried the chess board closer. "It was ruled by a wise and fair king who was much beloved."

She held up the white king piece to represent the man she just described.

"And when he grew old, he divided the kingdom among his four sons so that they may be the pillars on which the peace of the land would rest."

Merida noticed that her mother had used three white pieces and one black one, on which the queen had rested the chess board like a makeshift table.

"But," Elinor continued, "The oldest prince wanted to rule the land for himself. He followed his own path, and the kingdom fell to war and chaos and ruin!"

She quickly removed the black piece from under the board and let it clatter to the floor along with the rest of the pieces.

"That's a nice story!" Merida quipped.

"It's not just a story, Merida. Legends are lessons - they ring with truth."

"And where's the lesson here?"

"The lesson is that sacrifices must often be made in order to maintain peace."

"But I don't want to give up my life to some man I don't even know - let alone love!"

"Merida! Unless you wish to follow the path of the prince, you should listen to me!"

Merida sighed and collapsed back onto her bed once more.

"Stop this! I don't know why you're acting this way, but talk to me again when you've come to your senses."

With that, Elinor walked out of the room and closed the door behind her, not quite slamming it but doing so loudly enough to make an impact.

Tears stung Merida's eyes soon enough.

...

The doors thundered behind Lord and Lady Dingwall as they returned to their castle.

Lord Dingwall looked at his wife with a playful smirk.

"Well, I'm glad that meeting's over! Aren't you, Mairi? Now we can focus on what really matters- the games!"

Her gaze slowly shifted to him.

"Not quite yet. There's still a bit of business that needs attending to."

"I still need to handle a few... botched arrangements that were previously made," she continued.

A confused expression crossed Lord Dingwall's face at that comment. Mairi smiled sweetly at him in return.

"Don't worry, Fingal. It's nothing I can't handle."

Fingal brushed it off, not caring to push his wife with further questions. He knew that she'd make him miserable if he pushed her too far.

"Good luck, my lady."

She looked at him with a small smile and a nod before setting out for her son.

...

Mairi Dingwall found her son soon enough. He had just taken a bite of an apple as she stepped in.

"I have some good news for you, Bean. It seems that I was able to fix our little shenanigan. No one suspected a thing."

"What do you mean, mother?"

"You mean you don't remember? I assembled an entire crew for you to hold the princess for ransom!"

Wee Dingwall almost choked on the apple. Mairi sighed.

"I had to bribe Callum MacIntosh to go in your stead - and he failed miserably!"

"It's a good thing I had the tact to keep things under wraps at the council today. It would have been a disaster otherwise!" Mairi continued.

Bean just stared at his mother, stunned and clueless in regards to what he should have said or done in that moment.

Lady Dingwall rolled her eyes.

"I can handle the diplomatic elements of this endeavor, but I can't go on saving your sweet bottom forever! I suggest you spruce up your sporting skills. It'll be up to you and your father at the games."

She quickly turned around and headed for the door.

"I'm going to handle some business regarding Callum's botched job. Use your time wisely, Bean."

The loud thud of the door followed her words.

...

The younger MacIntosh swallowed hard as he watched his older brother throw yet another axe at the massive trunk of an old oak tree. They'd both lost count of how many spears, axes, and other weapons they'd been throwing at that poor tree along with several other suitable wooden targets.

He gasped when his brother tossed him another spear.

"C'mon, Callum! Not only are you throwing like a girl- you're catching like one too!"

Callum quickly snapped out of his dazed stupor and smirked at him.

"So you think I throw like a girl, eh?"

He immediately tossed the spear, sending it plunging through the very heart of the battered target that had been carved into the tree.

"Ha! Take that, Wallace!"

"Nice shot. Keep it up and the lasses will be sticking to our arms like barnacles!"

The two of them bursted out laughing. Callum MacIntosh was on the verge of forgetting what was bothering him when he suddenly glanced up and saw the escorts surrounding the last two people he wanted to see. His smile and laughter left him as quickly as it came.

Wallace raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"What?"

"They're here."

The older MacIntosh looked over his shoulder and saw exactly what he was talking about.

"Agh, them again! What do they want now?"

"I don't want to know."

"You know our parents. They're always wanting to make us presentable and lordly and what not whenever something might remotely be about the princess."

"Aye," Callum said defeatedly.

"As much as I like the attention, it can get kind of boring," Wallace responded with a smirk on his face.

Callum chuckled, though it did nothing to loosen the knots in his stomach.

...

"Ah, the young lords of MacIntosh," Lady Dingwall remarked. "I'm glad you've come."

Callum swallowed hard. Lady Dingwall's manner seemed polite on the surface, but the coldness and artificiality of her words told every fiber of his being to run for the hills. Lord and Lady MacIntosh didn't seem to catch on at all.

"It breaks my heart to say that I must be the bearer of such ill news," Lady Dingwall continued. "You see, I was a witness to the kidnapping of Princess Merida. It is with a heavy heart that I say that I personally witnessed your son, Callum MacIntosh, act as a leading accomplice to that heinous act."

Wallace's eyes were wide with shock as he turned to his brother. His father reacted similarly.

"What?!"

"I tried to stop him," said Lady Dingwall. "But he could not be persuaded. He mercilessly dragged her to a ship by eastern shore. It is a miracle that she found a way to escape."

The MacIntoshes were stunned. Lord MacIntosh turned to Callum with a furious scowl etched into his face.

"Is this true?"

"N-no!"

Callum's response was unconvincing, though laced with no small amount of fear. This was worse than he'd imagined. Lady Dingwall kept her calm façade in place.

"You can lie and deny it all you want, Callum. You're digging your own grave."


	8. Chapter VIII: Voiceless

Chapter VIII: Voiceless

"YOU HELPED KIDNAP THE PRINCESS?!"

"Da, I can explain-"

"Do you know what you've done?! You've risked the entire name of the MacIntosh clan - and for what?!"

"I made a deal with Lady Dingwall- All I wanted was the chance to earn a name in my own right! I never meant to hurt anyone!"

Lady Dingwall chuckled.

"A deal? With me? That's one of the most absurd lies I've ever heard!" She paused to regain her composure.

"Well, you heard it as from his own mouth," she said. "Your son Callum has clearly put himself above all others - and the honor of the entire clan."

She promptly turned to leave. The pain in Callum's eyes was as clear as day. The door made a damning thud as Lady Dingwall left the room. Callum to his family, whose faces were now masks of shock and anger. Wallace was the first to speak.

"Callum?" He paused, the words temporarily escaping him. "How could you do this?"

"Please... I can explain..."

"Then by all means, do so!"

"I-I made a deal with Lady Dingwall..." he responded. He let out a heavy sigh before continuing.

"She had a plan to take the princess and make it look like her son saved her... She said if I helped her, she'd ensure that I would get a name of my own."

"Well, you certainly achieved that!" his mother quipped.

"I don't care what that wench Lady Dingwall had to do with it!" Lord MacIntosh bellowed. "A good member of his clan NEVER helps his rivals win the hand of a princess - especially when it involves such a disgraceful means as kidnapping!"

"I'm sorry!"

"You are now - and I'll see to it that you are for a very long time!"

"It'll be up to Wallace to reclaim our good name at the games," Lord MacIntosh continued. "Which you absolutely will NOT be attending."

...

A thick blanket of fog covered the water as Frodo broke the surface, rendering it almost impossible to tell the morning from the afternoon. He could barely make out the castle in the distance. He stared out at it, studying whatever could be seen in the misty grey fog. Even if he still had legs, it'd be difficult to reach the girl he'd been eyeing in this weather.

The next thing he knew, he heard a strange, soft high-pitched sigh.

"Oooohhh...Heeee..."

Frodo slowly turned around and saw a small, somewhat amorphous blue ball of light. Two little white dots rested where he assumed its eyes should have been. He furrowed his brows as he began to study the thing. He could have sworn it was only a few seconds later when the wisp let out another sigh and vanished into thin air.

Frodo backed away, confused. He studied his surroundings a bit longer before giving up and sinking back below the surface.

As soon as he was on the verge of forgetting about the whole ordeal, the blue ball reappeared inches from his nose, giving him a good startle. Frodo's eyes widened in wonder as he witnessed a whole trail of them materialize before him.

After a bit of hesitation, he decided to follow it. Each wisp vanished into the depths of the water as he drew near to each one. Frodo swam on like this for what seemed like an immeasurable amount of time, until the path finally guided him to the surface. He broke the surface once more to find that the scene had changed very little, and that there was no one there. Frodo's brows knitted in confusion. Why would those things lead him here if there was nothing to see?

He considered swimming back until he saw a little old woman come up to the edge of the shore, apparently collecting sea shells and pebbles. Frodo swam up to the nearest rock and perched himself on it, hoping to grab her attention. It was only then that he realized that there was a raven perched on her shoulder. The next thing he knew, that raven took off and flew right into his face, making him jump back and splash unceremoniously back into the water.

It was only when he cried out in shock that the woman seemed to notice him - and even then, she didn't necessarily notice him so much as the ruckus her pet was making.

"Blasted Bird - What shenanigan have you gotten yourself into now?!"

"There was somebody perched on the rocks!" squawked the raven.

The old woman rolled her eyes just seconds before Frodo poked his head out of the water and hoisted himself up until he was halfway out of the water.

The woman's eyes widened with a combination of shock and wonder as her mouth formed a small "o". She shortly shook her head, cleared her throat, and crossed her arms.

"What's a mer-lad like you doing out so near the shore?"

Frodo opened his mouth to speak, but was promptly cut off as an exciting idea suddenly seemed to pop into the woman's head.

"Has word of my wood carvings really the merfolk? Today must be my lucky day - I just went out here to gather some sea shells to add a lovely touch to my latest collection!"

"What...?"

Frodo looked at her in utter confusion. Why would those strange balls of light lead him to a crazy old wood carver?

"I don't think he's here for the carvings," the raven squaked.

Frodo immediately snapped his gaze in his direction.

"Your-your bird! He can talk!"

"Think a talking bird's crazy? Take a look in the water!" quipped the raven.

"How can you do that?"

"Oh, I can do lots of things! I can sing, too! LALALALALAAAAAAAAA!"

Suddenly, the old woman levitated a rock off the sand and sent it flying squarely into the bird's face. She caught it in her hand before it fell into the sand, tucking away its unconscious form into the folds of her dress and cloak.

"Ah, sorry about that, laddie. That buzzard can be terribly annoying."

For a moment, Frodo just stared on. He had no idea what to make of the situation.

"You just levitated a rock and sent it flying into your crow's face!"

"No I didn't! That was just the tides... which came at a rather convenient time."

Frodo ignored the blatant lie and continued.

"Perhaps you can help me? There's this girl I've been wanting to see -"

"As is the story with every lad! What makes this one so special?"

"Her name's Merida -"

"Hold it! Hold it! Did you say Merida?"

"Yes!"

"The princess? Dear lord, she's got suitors flanking her from all sides!"

"Can you help me?"

"I'm not a witch! There were too many unsatisfied customers!"

"Huh?!"

"I don't do magic anymore because there were too many dissatisfied customers!"

"I don't care about that! If what you say is true, then I need a pair of legs!"

The witch paused to ponder his response before answering.

"Well... there is one way to do that. But, before I make this offer, I have to ask you one question."

Frodo's eyes were now fixed on her, hanging on to every word.

"How badly do you want to be with the princess?"

"More than anything," Frodo answered.

"There is one spell that can help you, but be warned, laddie - it's not very pleasant."

"Will I get a pair of legs?"

"Aye, but it'll feel as though you've been run through with a sword - and each step you take with feel like you're walking on daggers."

"But on the bright side," she continued, "you might find that you've got some lovely dance moves. Perhaps that'll charm her?"

"I'll take it."

"All rightie, then. Now, how are you going to pay for that?"

"Name your price."

"Oh, anything of value will do. A nice pendant, a ring, a decently sized pearl..."

Frodo let out a heavy sigh.

"You don't have any of those, don't you?" the witch remarked.

"No."

"Well... I did say anything of value, didn't I?"

Frodo perked up, his eyes fixed on her.

"If the voices of the merfolk are as beautiful as the legends say, then perhaps you can pay me with yours? Besides, there are a horde of ladies out there who would kill for a good listener- and I'd bet all of my wood carvings that the princess is one of them!"

Frodo paused for a moment before asking his next question.

"How long will I have to win her over?"

"About forty days. However, should she marry another, it'll all be for naught, and you'll turn to sea foam on the sunset of her wedding day."

His gaze dropped to the water beneath him as he pondered the witch's words.

"So... what say you?" asked the witch. "Are you sure you want to do this, laddie?"

Frodo shifted his gaze back to her, making direct eye contact.

"Yes."

"All right - here we go."

The witch snapped her fingers, and before Frodo knew it, a whole host of potion-making supplies materialized between them, complete with a cauldron. The raven finally awakened from his knocked out stupor and flew out to Frodo again, plucking a hair from his head and a scale from his fin.

The witch went out to the water and scooped up some sea water in a small ladle before adding it to her bubbling concoction. Frodo watched as she pulled out a gilded conch shell from the folds of her dress (perhaps it was one of the magical items that materialized from among her supplies) and began to cite an incantation. The sky suddenly darkened, as though a great storm threatened to plummet against the very shore where they stood.

 _"Now, young lad, you've made your choice-_

 _Come winds of the North Sea_

 _Come and raise your beautiful voice_

 _and bring it here to me."_

"Now," she continued. "Sing for me."

And Frodo did. He sang the same song as he did the very first time he tried to capture the attention of the princess. Two ethereal forms that resembled giant hands materialized, ready to grasp his voice, which now took on a glowing, wisp-like form at his throat. The hands reached towards him. He forced himself to calm his nerves and steadied his breath as they came closer, reaching for the orb of light where his voice resided.

One of the hands braced him by the waist as the other reached down his throat and finally took his voice, which continued to sing as the wispy hands receded back into the shell. Surprisingly, he felt no pain during the ordeal (save for the discomfort of a nonphysical entity going through him). He watched the sky grow clearer as the witch tucked the shell back into the folds of her cloak.

The cauldron ceased its bubbling. The witch took out a small glass bottle and funneled in the concoction, which seemed to only take on a liquid form once it was inside its final vessel. The potion looked as dark as a stormy sky, save for a gleam of red where the sunlight hit it. The old woman corked the bottle and handed it over to him.

"There you go. Use your time wisely, laddie. Good luck."

With that, the witch gathered some more shells and vanished without a trace.

Frodo stared at the bottle for a little longer, then peered up at the castle ahead before swimming up to shore and inching himself against a large, cliff like boulder. He took one last glance at his tail before shifting his gaze back to the bottle.

He finally uncorked it and drank it. It was only a moment later when he winced and doubled over from a sudden assault of pain in his torso.

The witch wasn't lying when she said that the spell would feel like he was being run through with a sword.


	9. Chapter IX: Silent Beauty

Chapter IX: Silent Beauty

Frodo had no idea how much time had passed before he finally had a pair of legs - only that it had been a slow, excruciating process. He wouldn't have been able to hold back his screams of agony had it not been for the absence of his voice.

For a good long while, he just sat in the shadows, naked and leaning against boulder he'd inched up to to earlier. He grasped it for dear life when he finally mustered the strength to attempt standing up. He winced as he gradually shifted his weight to his feet. Unfortunately, the witch was telling the truth when she said that it would feel as though he was walking on daggers.

Frodo gritted his teeth and willed himself into taking his first steps. He placed his hand against the boulder to support himself. He took slow and small steps, as though he were a child first learning to walk. He looked for a landmark- anything, really - that was close enough for him to continue his journey. He spotted a smaller boulder that was a small ways away. He stared intently at it for a moment, deciding what he should do.

*I've got to be able to walk over there. If I can't do that, this'll all be for naught!*

A glare of determination brightened the blue of his eyes as he headed out from the safety of the shadows and into broad daylight, heading towards his landmark. The shore was currently devoid of any other souls, ensuring that there was no distraction from his exercise. His legs trembled violently as he walked. He tried to ignore the pain, unfortunately to no avail. He collapsed as soon as he reached his destination, grasping on to the rock for support. He was breathing heavily as he rested there, trying desperately to recover his strength and energy. He was about to rise to his feet again when his ears suddenly pricked up at the sound of neighing in the distance.

Frodo looked in the direction of the sound. His eyes immediately widened at the sight of Princess Merida astride her signature black and white steed heading right in his direction.

...

The last time she rode out like this, Merida thought she'd never be able to do it again. Yet, here she was, heading off on her next adventure. This was the first time she did so after her kidnapping, and, quite frankly, she couldn't help but look more carefully at her surroundings as a result. Nonetheless, she enjoyed the wind in her hair, the energetic neighs of Angus, the sound of hooves excitedly pounding the earth, and the whirl of nature's beauty around her all the same.

Yet even so, the memories of her previous trip still haunted the back of her mind. She tried pushing them away until they drifted to the blurry image of the man who had saved her life, followed by the quiet echoes of that hauntingly beautiful voice...

Before she knew it, she was instinctively heading towards the shore she'd been washed up on along with him. Once she reached it, she paused and looked out at the serene landscape before her. She was reverently scanning her surroundings, taking in every last detail... and then she realized she wasn't alone.

...

Frodo's first instinct was to hide behind the boulder that he'd walked to earlier when Merida approached stride her horse. Yet even so, he couldn't help but to peek out over the edge and peer out at her as she looked out at the shore before her.

Her gaze shifted right in his direction as she scanned everything about her. He instinctively pulled away and obscured himself from her view. He took a deep breath as he hid.

 _If I don't approach her now, I may not have another chance...!_

He slowly rose to his feet, doing his very best to ignore the sensation resulting from the spell he was under. Frodo looked directly into the princess's eyes as he slowly and deliberately walked towards her.

...

Merida stared in awe at what she saw next. A pale, lean young man with a head full of dark brown ringlets rose from behind the nearest boulder and made direct eye contact as he walked towards her. Merida couldn't hold back a quiet gasp. He was... absolutely striking, to say the least. His gait, however, was quite awkward, as though he'd hadn't walked before. His legs shook with every step. Merida's face noticeably flushed when she realized he wasn't wearing any clothes. She dismounted Angus and removed her cloak to give to him.

"Hello...?"

The man placed his hand on Angus' side to steady himself and tried to mouth a brief response. She was sure he was trying to say "Hello" back, yet no sound came from him.

"Umm... are you all right, sir?"

He tried to say something in response, but alas, the same result as before ensued.

"You can't speak?"

He sighed and shook his head.

"Here. Take this," she said, handing him her cloak.

He mouthed a "Thank you," before proceeding to taking the cloak from her. However, as soon as he took his hand off Angus, he lost his balance and fell forward right in Merida's direction. She tried to catch him, but ended up collapsing under his weight and falling right onto her back. He fell on top of her, landing with the palms of his hands squarely on her shoulders. Merida's face turned redder than her hair as she looked up at him. She could tell from the look in his piercing blue eyes that he was feeling the exact same way she was - an awkward blend of mortification, fascination, attraction, and... familiarity. Now that she thought about it, that face looked eerily familiar - she could have sworn she'd seen him before. She briefly glanced down at his chest and shoulders, and then shifted her gaze back to his face. She quickly found out where the attraction part came from.

The man got off her as quickly as he could and steadied himself against Angus. He slowly walked back to the boulder, taking the cloak back with him. He sat on it as he promptly wrapped the garment about his shoulders. As soon as Merida noticed him draping it's edge over

Merida looked back at him again, trying to remember when she saw him last. The memory of waking up to the sight of the man on this shore suddenly flashed through her mind again - and suddenly the one standing before her looked eerily similar to the face in her memory.

"Have I... seen you before?"

He looked up at her with those brilliant blue eyes and nodded. A thrill of excitement ran down Merida's spine.

"Do you have a name?," she asked.

He nodded again, and despite his lack of a voice, he tried to answer. Merida suddenly focused on his lips, trying to make out what he was saying.

"Frodo...? Is that right?"

He nodded a third time and smiled. Merida's heart skipped a beat in spite of itself in response. She smiled back as she mounted her horse and extended her hand to him.

"Well, come on, Frodo! You can't be walking around the Highlands in naught but your skin and a cloak!"

Frodo took her hand hoisted himself onto the horse, gently placing his hands on her waist.

"YA!"

The two of them rode off towards the looming stone castle perched upon the hills like a king in his throne. A bit of fog was beginning to roll in at the foot of those hills, casting that castle in a regal, magical light. This was what Merida called home.


	10. Chapter X: The Stranger In the Castle

Chapter X: The Stranger in The Castle

Frodo noticed the glances from all of the servants as soon as he and Merida passed through the impressive castle gate that was the entrance to Castle DunBroch. The men looked at each other nervously before hastily heading back to their work. The women flushed and bashfully averted their eyes before glancing back up at him. The children looked on with wide-eyed wonder and curiosity, eagerly pointing at him as they tugged at their mothers' skirts and their fathers' boots and kilts.

Frodo swallowed hard. He'd never been this self conscious before. He pulled his cloak about him as Merida led the horse they were astride into the stables. She offered her hand to him as soon as she dismounted Angus, and he took it. He tried not to wince when his feet hit the ground. The sensation of rough, dry hay against his bare feet didn't help with the unfortunate side effect of turning his fin into a pair of legs.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder to support himself. Merida wrapped hers around his waist. She could feel his trembling body against hers as she guided him around one of the back doors and led him inside through the room where several servants were doing laundry.

Maudie, a plump, large chested woman who sported a simple and the simple beige dress of a servant, carrying the next load of laundry when she noticed the two of them. As soon as she glanced at Frodo, she gasped as her face turned as red as a beet.

Frodo was about say a polite "hello" when he was promptly reminded that he couldn't speak due to the absence of his voice. He sighed and put his hand to his throat. Maudie ran as fast as she could and hysterically shook the shoulder of one of the other servants as though someone had suddenly dropped unconscious. She accidentally tugged on her mousy brown braid, who yelped and rapidly turned in her direction.

"Agh! What is it, Maudie?!"

"Him!"

She pointed directly at Frodo. He and Merida awkwardly glanced at one another as he bit his lower lip. From the way Maudie was acting, the princess might as well have brought in some ferocious beast.

"Oh," the other woman responded.

She promptly went up to the two of them and scanned him lengthwise.

"Who's this, dearie?"

Frodo tried to speak again and shook his head in frustration.

"Um, I think his name's Frodo," Merida responded. "He saved me after I was kidnapped."

"Oh! Did he?" the woman responded. Her voice rung with a strong overtone of genuine, gleeful intrigue. "Well then, what a pleasure it is to make your acquaintance, Master Frodo!"

She heartily shook his hand before continuing.

"I'm Annis, by the way. You'll have to excuse my friend Maudie over there. She's... a bit anxious - especially at the prospect of a handsome stranger like yourself slipping through the castle! If we don't handle this properly, we could wind up with quite the scandal on our hands. First things first - you can't be walking around in nothing but a cloak! Come, follow me!"

She took his hand and led him straight on - presumably to a bathing chamber.

...

The next thing Frodo knew, he was in a large room with an ample, sturdy wooden tub in the middle.

Steam rose from the water in it in gentle tendrils, making the tub look surprisingly inviting. Frodo's gaze dropped down to the steaming water as he finally made the decision to remove his cloak and get in. Annis made sure to look away as he unclasped the only garment he was wearing.

She took it as soon as he got in, spreading it before her to preserve his modesty.

However, she couldn't suppress a giggle as she recognized who the actual owner of the cloak was.

"Oh, dear - you're in desperate need of some decent attire! I'll return this to Princess Merida!"

She glanced at him, still making sure to maintain his modesty.

"I'll have this washed and leave you some proper clothes."

Once the door closed, Frodo sank into the tub and sighed, feeling relieved and embarrassed at the same time.

It'd been a long day. He'd gotten as close to the princess he'd fallen in love with as was possible in one day, and he had quite the roof over his head. That had to count for something.

...

Annis was quick to take the cloak back to the wash and make a beeline straight for Maudie.

"All right. We've got a new garment to add to the next load - and a new guest!"

Maudie looked at her, wide eyed.

"What? Him?! Annis, what are you doing?!"

"Returning the favor he did for the princess."

"You want a strange man roaming about the castle with Princess Merida about to be betrothed?! The queen will be horrified!"

"Queen Elinor is a wise and rational woman. I'm sure she'll understand once she knows what he did for Merida - and if she doesn't, I'll gladly pay the consequences."

Annis paused before continuing as Maudie stared at her, awestruck.

"Now, can you please help me pick out some clothes for him?"


	11. Chapter XI: A Quiet Young Lad

**A/N: Hello, Everyone! I was hoping to have this chapter out about a week ago... I'm so sorry for the delay! Unfortunately, I've been rather busy as of late, so there won't be any updates on The Ringbearer and the Huntress this month. Hopefully I can get the next chapter in for that one uploaded in mid-late August! In the meantime, please enjoy the new chapter below! Hope you're all having a great summer!**

 **\- Diem Kieu**

Chapter XI: A Quiet Young Lad

Maudie stammered as she tried to think of a place to find clothes for the man who Annis and Merida had just taken in.

She glanced over at the piles of laundry and suddenly started to scramble through them in order to find something decent. Annis did the same, albeit not nearly as frantically. An idea suddenly popped into her head as she spotted her son's spare shirt and kilt among the garments to be washed.

"Hey Maudie - can you go and get Fraser for me?"

Maudie nodded and ran off to find him.

...

"Fraser! Fraser!"

Maudie's voice could be heard from a mile away. The teenage boy she was calling immediately recognized it and sheepishly walked up towards her. The boy was awkwardly lanky and had the same mousy brown hair and hazel eyes of his mother.

"Your mum wants you," Maudie stated. "You'd better come with me to the laundry chamber."

"Yes, Maudie."

The boy made his way there with her, unsure of what to expect. He had no idea about what had just conspired. In fact, he'd been all but oblivious to the spectacle of Princess Merida coming in to the castle with a strange man on her horse. He wasn't even listening to the surrounding gossip that followed like flies to a plate of discarded food scraps.

...

"Ah, Fraser! There you are."

"Yes, mum. I'm here. What d'ya need?"

"We've got a new lad here, and he's going to need some clothes. Can you lend him your spare shirt and kilt?"

"Umm... sure. Who... exactly is he?"

"His name's Frodo. He saved the princess's life."

Annis was quick to pull out the said spare shirt and kilt from the pile of laundry. She neatly folded them and set them apart from all of the other clean laundry.

"Thank you for doing this, my boy. He's going to really appreciate this. The poor lad was wearing nothing but her cloak when he walked in here!"

Fraser cringed at the very thought.

"Sounds like he really needs these, then."

"Aye, he does. Now be a good lad and help your father with the stables."

Fraser sighed.

"All right, mum."

He walked out the door and headed for the stables. At least that was better than folding laundry.

...

Merida shut the door behind her as soon as she entered her room. She threw her bow and quiver of arrows on her bed and paced the floor, obsessing over what would be the most appealing pretense to introduce the handsome mute she'd brought in.

He'd saved her life. She'd be telling the truth, and that was a very legitimate reason. However, as she was painfully aware, castle politics always made things far more complicated than they needed to be.

What would she tell her mother? Perhaps that he was a new servant? No. That would be ridiculous.

A new suitor? No! That would be even worse!

A peasant in need of shelter? The story needed a bit of work to justify why he was staying in the castle - and dining with the royal family.

 _Ah, forget it! I'll just tell her the truth about him saving my life!_

A light then flashed in her mind, and her eyes lit up on cue.

 _Perfect!_

Her smile faded as quickly as it came as soon as her thoughts turned back to why she even needed to come up with the narrative in the first place. She sighed heavily, then wrinkled her nose. At least she was able to conjure a decent premise for her new friend.

 _Castle politics stink worse than a steaming pile of horse dung. I'd rather stick my nose in some of Angus' than deal with any more of it._

...

Merida was the first to sit at the dinner table. Maudie and Annis were setting the last few pieces of dinnerware when she took her seat, still obsessing over the final details of her pretense for introducing Frodo to her mother. She glanced over and noticed the extra place that had been set.

 _Good._

She'd placed her bow and quiver of arrows so that they were now leaning against the side of her chair.

 _No weapons on the table tonight. I've got a mum to impress and and someone new to introduce._

She'd even put on a dress that was a bit nicer than her usual blue-green one- a rarity despite the fact that she was a princess. This one was a dusty sage color with some gold embroidery at the neckline and the hem. She began twirling one of her curls between her fingers as she looked down at what she was wearing. She couldn't even remember the last time she wore it. She smirked and chuckled at herself.

 _Who are you and what did you do with Princess Merida of DunBroch?_

She was snapped out of her thoughts as soon as her mother stepped into the room.

"Merida! You're here early - and you've changed your dress! I'm impressed."

She took a good, approving look at her daughter.

"You look beautiful."

Merida grinned ear to ear.

It was then that the queen noticed the extra place setting.

"Are we... expecting someone, dear?"

"Yes - Frodo."

Elinor's expression went from pleasant surprise to confusion.

"Frodo?"

"Um... he's new here. He's the one who saved my life when I was kidnapped."

"Really?"

"Yes... I think he was... about to go fishing when he saw me."

 _Brilliant,_ she thought sourly. _That was totally convincing._

"Intriguing..." Elinor commented. "I'll be looking forward to hearing his side of the tale."

"Um, Mum - I think there's something else you should know about him."

"Hm?"

"He... doesn't speak. I mean, he can perfectly understand what you're saying, but he just can't talk."

"He's mute?"

"Aye."

"Well, that's very interesting indeed - although that is rather unfortunate for a conversation."

Fergus' jolly laughter announced his arrival. The triplets were clinging to him like barnacles on an old ship. Hamis sat like a mischievous little bird on his shoulder, tugging on his mustache. Hubert and Harris were clinging to either leg - well, in the latter's case, it was his wooden peg.

"C'mon, you wee devils - get off me!"

The little ones giggled hysterically. Hamis tugged on his mustache again.

For a moment, Elinor panicked. What kind of embarrassment would ensue if her daughter's guest showed up to this?!

"Fergus!"

Her husband continued to laugh and play with the clinging children.

"Fergus!"

He suddenly turned to his wife. The triplets also turned their gaze to her, their eyes wide - partly from their playful nature, and partly from their childish awe at their mother.

"A king does not enter his dining hall as though he were running into a child's playroom! Especially when he has a new guest!"

Merida almost chuckled.

 _At least I know I'm not the only one Mum lectures about royal decorum._

"Guest?! Who, dear?"

Elinor cleared her throat.

"Merida," she said, turning to her daughter. "Would you like to tell him about our guest tonight?"

Merida cleared her throat.

"His name's Frodo. He saved me when I was kidnapped."

"Sounds like a brave lad to me! Of course, I'm sure you could easily give him a run for his money."

She giggled as her father winked at her.

"I'm looking forward to hearing how he tells the story!" he remarked.

"It'll certainly be interesting to see him try..."

"What do you mean, lass?"

"Well... he's mute."

"Really?"

"Aye."

"Oh. You're right. This is going to be intere-"

He was interrupted by the sound of the doors finally opening.

For a moment, Frodo continued to quietly stand behind them. He looked almost timid.

Merida immediately stood up, eager to see how he looked when he was actually wearing clothes. Her little brothers seemed equally fascinated- and for good reason, since they hadn't seen him before at all.

Annis was close behind him.

"Go on, lad - don't be shy!"

Frodo stepped forward. He was wearing a kilt in the tartan of Clan DunBroch, along with a simple dark grey shirt and a brown leather belt. He was still barefoot. Annis had tried to get him to wear boots, but he just couldn't bring himself to put them on.

Merida quickly took in every detail as she scanned the length of him.

 _That's probably what I'd be wearing if I were a lad..._

Elinor nudged Fergus and looked at the triplets, who were still hanging to their father.

"Boys," she whispered. "Places!"

The boys slumped off Fergus and marched to their seats sulking.

"Ah," Fergus remarked, turning to Frodo. "So you're the lad who saved my daughter's life!"

Frodo nodded hesitantly.

"That was quite a noble thing that you did," Queen Elinor chimed in. "I will ensure that you are rewarded handsomely for your noble deed."

Frodo took a brief but longing glance at Merida.

 _I don't need or want any reward aside from her._

"Come, sit with us," the queen stated with her usual poised, polite tone.

He obeyed and sat right next to Merida, albeit in a manner less suited for someone being honored for his heroism and more so for a little boy about to be lectured by his mother. The princess at his side was all too quick to notice this.

She nudged him and wiggled her nose at him in the same way she would if she were exchanging banter with her father. The corners of Frodo's mouth curled up in a smile at their own volition. That grin suddenly lit up his face as he chuckled at her antics, although no sound came from him.

 _He's even handsomer when he smiles._

Elinor cleared her throat.

"Frodo- is that your name?"

He nodded.

"So my daughter tells me that you were out... fishing when you saw her?"

Frodo raised a brow in confusion. Merida quickly chimed in for him.

"Umm... yes!" She smiled nervously. "At least, that's what I think he was doing."

"Ah, I see," Elinor responded flatly.

As soon she turned away, Merida turned to whisper into Frodo's ear.

"Sorry about that. I know you're not a fisherman, but I needed to tell my mum that in order to let you stay here. I'll explain more later."

Frodo looked at her and nodded. Merida leaned in again to his ear.

"I just need you to play along for now."

He nodded again, although he wasn't entirely sure of what to make of it.

The doors opened to servants carrying out the family dinner before anything more could be said.


	12. Chapter XII: In Need of an Explanation

Chapter XII: In Need of an Explanation

Merida carefully scanned the meal that the servants were about to serve to her and her family- and especially to Frodo. A platter full of roasted meats and freshly prepared salmon was placed at the center of the table, along with some salads and vegetables.

She eyed the salmon uneasily. She didn't know what exactly Frodo was yet, but something told her that he was connected to the sea. Was her family about to unintentionally offend him by serving up a potential former pet or companion? Did he come from some place where sea life was revered like the will-o-the-wisps were here?

She held her breath, wondering if he would even notice what he was just served. She watched as her father prepared to take a hearty portion before her mother gave him a side glance and cleared her throat. The queen then turned to Frodo and gave him the warm, polite smile she always gave whenever she hosted the lairds.

"Guests first."

Frodo quietly took his portion. Merida couldn't help but let out a small sigh of relief when he ate the salmon seemingly without giving it a second thought.

Elinor tried to think of something else to discuss in order to entertain her guest, but when nothing came up due to his muteness, her mind quickly turned back to her daughter's betrothal.

"Now, Merida- in light of your upcoming betrothal, I will need you to set aside several hours a day for training with me. It is crucial that you put your best foot forward for the big day."

 _Betrothal?_

Frodo's heart sank into his bare feet at the word. As if reading his mind, Merida turned to look at him with a look of utter regret and dread, as though to say that she hated the idea as much as he did.

She sighed heavily.

"Merida, you know that it's your duty as a princess."

Fergus jumped in just in time to cut off the impending tension in the room.

"I'm sure our guest would like to hear the story about how I slew Mor'du!"

Merida grinned, incredibly relieved that her father came in and changed the awful subject.

Frodo looked up, curious.

As if on cue, Fergus enthusiastically retold the tale of how the monstrous bear had confronted him and taken his leg. Frodo listened intently. The triplets were on the brink of falling asleep from how many times they'd heard it.

Frodo's eyes lit up when Merida jumped in to the tale with no less gusto than her father. He couldn't hold back the smile that forced itself upon his face despite the broken love pangs that had overtaken his chest. The boys suddenly woke up from their bored stupor. The little princes always liked it when their older sister told the tale of Mor'du.

...

"Psst!"

Merida ushered Frodo on as soon as the meal had ended.

As soon as they were out of the sight of her parents and her brothers, she took him by the hand and led him to the stables where her horse Angus slept.

She sighed before speaking.

"I don't want to get married - especially not like this."

 _What do you mean?_

"This wasn't my choice. My mum wants to marry me off to one of the lairds to keep the peace between the clans. She says it's part of my responsibility as a princess - "

She let out a loud, frustrated groan before continuing.

"I don't want to be given away like this!"

She stepped back, her voice breaking.

"Is this... what a princess is? Am I nothing more than a political pawn?"

Frodo stared at her, stunned. He tried again to formulate words, but they escaped him yet again. It didn't matter. He was mute. Along with the overwhelming wave of sympathy that had overtaken him came a wash of relief and hope. Perhaps, despite the prominent obstacle of her betrothal, he could at least have the chance to win her heart if not her hand. That, at least, would be a comforting final thought if he were to ultimately be reduced to sea foam.

He stepped forward, and, not knowing what else to, wrapped his arms around her and clasped her close.

Merida's eyes briefly widened in surprise, her mouth forming a small "o" before she buried her face into his shoulder and hugged him back. Frodo bit his lower lip to prevent himself from welling up at the sound of her soft, muffled whimpers. He smoothed his hand several times over the mass of fiery red curls that now spilled over both of their shoulders.

After a good long while, Merida finally raised her head and eased herself out of his arms.

"Thank you," she said, almost in a whisper before leaving the stable. For a moment, Frodo just stood there and watched her go. He was started from his trance by the sound of Angus neighing. Angus glanced at his owner and shook his head, as though gesturing Frodo to follow her.

He took the horse's implied advice and followed her out of the stable.

...

Merida was on the brink of falling asleep in her chair. Her head might as well have been an iron ball on the verge of crashing on to the tabletop before her. The only thing keeping her awake at this moment was the fact that Frodo had decided to sit with her during today's private lesson- taught by none other than Queen Elinor herself.

Frodo laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. Despite doing his best to be there for her the previous evening, he could tell that she hadn't slept well. Merida was tempted to lean on his. She was just on the verge of indulging herself when the sound of the door opening with a thud against the stone wall announced her mother's presence.

The princess jolted awake. Frodo straightened and turned his gaze to the woman who had just walked in the room, as though he were a schoolboy determined to give the teacher his best foot forward.

The queen approached the desk in front of the room, which was strewn with varied old and worn-looking scrolls. She rummaged through them, her semi-aloud thoughts able to be heard through her muttering.

Once she found the one she was looking for, she straightened and held her head high, clearing her throat.

"Are you ready for today's lesson, lady and gentleman?"

Frodo nodded, smoothing a sheet of parchment and readying the quill in his hand.

"Um, yes." Merida replied awkwardly.

"A princess is always eloquent and precise in her responses," Elinor stated.

 _Duly noted,_ Frodo thought, applying the lesson to himself despite the fact that the remark was obviously aimed at the girl sitting next to him. _Although it's impossible for me to speak at all at this point._

He looked down at the quill in his hand and noticed the feel of the parchment beneath his other along with the fine wood that supported it.

Suddenly, memories of writing his final entry in the red journal that he'd given to his old friend Samwise Gamgee in the well lived in study of Bag End flooded his mind - memories of himself clutching his shoulder and sitting in the very same chair that his elderly uncle Bilbo sat in so many times before. He'd just written the last words he'd ever write in Middle Earth. In his mind's eye, Sam was approaching him from behind, his face the picture of gentle, genuine concern.

 _"It's been four years since Weathertop, Sam. It's never fully healed."_

 _Sam's gaze suddenly turned to seemingly complete book in front of Frodo._

 _"You finished it..."_

 _"Not quite," Frodo responded. "There's room for a little more."_

"Are either of you paying attention?"

In the literal blink of an eye, Frodo was back in the room where Queen Elinor was in the middle of giving him private lessons along with her daughter.

The only thing Merida was able to respond with was an embarrassing "Ummm..."

Elinor sighed at her daughter's thoroughly unconvincing answer.

"Merida, it is crucial that you have a working knowledge of the clans - especially since you'll be marrying into one of them."

Frodo frowned and placed his hand on his shoulder, just as he had done in his uncle's study in Bag End - except now the ache in his shoulder was accented with a painful love pang.

 _Not quite... There's room for a little more._

His own words echoed back in his mind.

Frodo looked down at the parchment before him, which was blank save for the noticeable ink blot where he'd rested his quill. His eyes opened wider as a sudden revelation donned on him.

He'd lost his voice - and his ability to sing and speak along with it when he'd given it to the witch. The unfortunate side effects of the spell he was given had also made it harder to walk.

He picked up the quill and began taking notes on the queen's lecture.

Despite his impediments, there was absolutely nothing wrong with his writing. His eyes darted to Merida, who was resting her face against her propped up hand and resembled the epitome of a bored young woman. His gaze turned back to the page before him. The ink blot had taken up a small patch of the parchment the way a small clan would claim its patch of land on a map. The rest was completely blank aside from the few notes he'd just jotted. Oh, yes - there was definitely room for more on this page.

He discreetly slipped another piece of parchment under the one he was taking notes on and glanced once more at Merida. Frodo lifted a corner of the page and wrote a brief note to her. His frown faded and turned into a quiet smile. He looked up at Elinor, making sure she wouldn't notice him tearing out his freshly written note and passing it to Merida.

Merida's gaze immediately shifted from space and onto the torn little scrap. She glanced at her mother in the same way the young man sitting next to her - with very similar intentions.

She grinned ear to ear at the note and gave him an enthusiastic nod in response.

Elinor looked over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow, sensing a change in mood. She primly cleared her throat.

"Are you finding today's lesson interesting?"

"Umm... yes!" Merida replied, giving her mother a polite smile whilst secretly admiring her own clever response.

"Good."

Frodo nodded affirmatively, giving the queen the mute equivalent of Merida's response.

The queen carried on with her lesson as usual. When it ended, Merida gleefully ran out the door as Frodo followed behind, a mirthful smile gracing his full lips.

Elinor gathered her belongings and carried on with her other queenly duties, not taking too much notice of the torn scrap of paper lying on the table. Little did she know that it was actually a note that Frodo had written it in the midst of his note taking - a very clever pretense indeed.

After she left the room, there was no one left to read the words that had been left in the open air. These were, in fact, the very words that had lifted the spirits of an extremely bored princess:

 _I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure. Care to join me?_


End file.
